The Adventures of Solo
by Haseo The Terror of Death
Summary: Solo has his entire career ahead of him. Tasked with his own team, Solo must travel Gielinor facing down the various threats to peace. But someone lurks in the shadows. Someone that will change Solo's future.


**I hope you guys enjoy this new story chronicling the adventures of Solo and his White Knight team. It takes place in February, set sometime before the Easter Bunny chapters of The Sphere of Varrock, but after Solo assembled his team of warriors during the 'Before His Rise' chapters. Review Q below and InterCom below.**_**  
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><p>The Adventures of Solo<p>

Chapter One

Solo ran as fast as his legs could carry him, only slowing down to maneuver through the dense forest and its many roots. Once or twice he'd fallen over the dangerous roots. He would have slowed to take a break, were it not for the creatures known as werewolves hounding him.

Desperately trying to not imagine their stinky breath on the nape of his neck, Solo continued on at a sprint. If he didn't catch up with his party, no telling what the werewolves would do to him.

Scratch that, he thought. He knew exactly what would happen to him: chow time. And with that particularly negative thought, Solo's foot found itself caught by a nasty root, sending him crashing to the ground.

A muttered curse, and Solo was scrambling to pick himself up. But when he tried to run, he discovered he had sprained his ankle, making his situation that more deadly.

He winced in pain as he limped his way through the woods, ever seeking his team. The nearby howls only served to remind him of his impending doom; the wolves were coming for him.

Sweat began to pour down his face as he limped, his breathing becoming labored. He wasn't going to make it; not at this pace. Coming to the realization that he needed to hide, Solo searched for any place he could temporarily lose the werewolves.

Finding no such hiding spots among the holes in the trees or any logs, Solo began to panic. His body began to slow, almost as if it had given up the fight. He slowed to a crawl before throwing himself onto the cold ground. If it wasn't bad already, it had begun to snow.

So not only could he be eaten by a pack of ravenous werewolves, Solo could now expect to freeze to death.

Wonderful, he thought. Simply wonderful.

As he lay on the snow-covered ground, he could almost feel the sharp teeth tearing him to bits, devouring him quickly and painfully.

Solo suddenly smelled something, a horrible odor that threatened to have him vomit. He soon realized that what he was sniffing was manure, which he could use to cover up his scent!

He scooped as much of it up as he could carry, then set about with the unfortunate task of covering himself in manure. He'd gotten most of his legs covered when he heard the sound of twigs snapping in quick succession-the wolves were almost upon him.

Piling the rest of the manure on his face and arms, he picked himself up and quickened his pace as he dove into a pile of leaves near a large oak tree. Solo forced himself to slow his breathing down enough so that he didn't alert the creatures to his whereabouts; one wrong sound and he was dog chow.

A howl came from his left, followed by another two close to his right. He cautiously peered out from between the leaves; he counted six werewolves: two to his immediate left, and the rest closer to his right. Even from several meters away, he could see their yellow teeth gleaming in the moonlight, their mouths opened in snarls.

What he believed to be the alpha dog spoke in a deep voice, "Where is the human, Scarn?"

The black werewolf to his left stepped forward sniffing the air. "The scent leads to this clearing, Conui, but ends abruptly."

Solo noticed that the other wolves were far from patient with this farce. Another glance revealed the alpha to be older than he first appeared. The graying fur and scar over his right eye informed Solo of the dog's age and experience; the other wolves were much younger.

"How long must we chase after measly humans, Conui!" roared a red furred wolf to his right. "I grow tired with this chase!"

The leader turned toward the red wolf. "Are you questioning my methods, Varto?"

"Let's face it, old-timer." Varto grinned. "You're not getting any younger, so perhaps someone else should take your place."

Conui snarled. "And would that be you?"

He grinned revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Yes."

Angered, Conui rushed the insubordinate wolf. Before Solo could blink, the older wolf had sliced opened the other wolf's throat. With a cry, the wolf coughed up foamy blood before collapsing to the ground, its blood turning the snow scarlet.

The alpha whipped his head about, looking at each of his pack. "Does anyone else question my orders!" No one answered. "I have led this pack for many moons, and I will continue to do so until I die. If anyone would like to attempt to take my place as alpha male, feel free to do so, now!"

Solo held his breath, waiting to see if one of the dogs dared make such a brash move. If he was lucky, a battle would break out, leaving the animals wounded enough for him to make his escape.

Sadly that did not happen; none questioned the alpha male. Solo grimaced as his ankle pulsed angrily. He would need to have it checked out by a cleric, if he ever got back home in one piece. What was once a simple retrieval mission had turned into an all-out fight for survival. Solo's team had been sent into the forest to retrieve a special relic, a wind ocarina, which was valued very much by a group of traveling elves from the Eastern Land. Things had gone wrong when a pack of werewolves seemed to be the ocarina's guardians. Regretting splitting up from his group to check out the ruined temple that housed the ocarina, along with a rusty blade, Solo started cramping up due to lying still for so long.

He scooted to the left and froze when the leaves crunched under his weight. The wolves sniffed the air suspiciously, letting out low growls. In terror, Solo watched as the wolves peered closer at his hiding spot.

Well, Solo thought, this is the end. If some miracle didn't happen in the next few seconds, he was puppy chow.

As if on cue, a man garbed in black stepped out from behind a tree. He reached for a staff strapped to his back and aimed it in the direction of the werewolves. A streak of black ink shot from the staff coating some of the wolves in it. Howling with fury the wolves advanced on this intruder with the ever-so clear goal of eviscerating him.

But something was wrong; the wolves who had been coated with the ink began to whimper one by one. Much to Solo's surprise, the ink miraculously came to life. It stretched tight over the wolves' snouts, cutting them off from air. In a few seconds, despite their attempts at clawing the gunk off, the wolves expired.

Only three werewolves were left standing, but they were seething with fury at the loss of their pack. Roaring, they attacked with blood-lust in their yellow eyes.

The man brushed a strand of his long blonde hair from his face, then unsheathed his sword. Its silver blade glinted brightly in the afternoon sun. Rushing forward the man engaged the wolves in what can only be described as a fluent dance.

Their sharp claws bounced harmlessly off his blade which didn't have any scratches at all. Twirling around his blade sliced into the neck of a wolf, blooding squirting from the wound when the blade slid cleanly out.

The strange man swiftly ducked under the oncoming blow from the second werewolf, retaliating with a well placed kick to the stomach. Unfortunately the creature wasn't stunned from the kick and slashed the man across the face, sending him falling to the ground.

Having seen enough Solo exploded from the pile of leaves, drawing his weapon as he sprinted across the forest floor until he reached the wolf. Now if only wolves, and werewolves, didn't have ultra sensitive hearing. Lashing out in a barrage of claws, the wolf had Solo backpedaled into a defensive position.

Barely able to protect himself, Solo caught a glimpse of the man in black struggling to stand to his feet, blood oozing from his face in a steady stream. He needed to get to him before the alpha could finish the man off; however, Solo couldn't do it if he couldn't even defend himself.

"I will tear your beating heart from your chest, meat!" the tan wolf roared at him. Solo cringed as wolf saliva splashed over him.

With all his strength, he tackled the beast which is never the right thing to do when facing down a terrifying werewolf. But the tackle worked and surprised the wolf just enough where Solo could break away and get to the injured man. He swung his sword at the alpha, managing to nick it.

The alpha roared with anger and leapt onto Solo's slightly turned body. Fearing for his life, Solo tried his best to repel the beast with his sword, yet the beast refused to release him. Before it could rip into him, the man in black stood to his feet and released a blast of black fire from his palm, searing the werewolf.

The beast dropped to the floor in a mad attempt to get the flames off him, but these flames were unnatural and ever burning. With a yelp of pain, the alpha fled deep into the forest, tail between his legs, and the last remaining member of his pack following close behind.

His last bit of energy used up, the man collapsed to the ground, his breathing light and shallow. Solo sheathed his sword and knelt beside his companion. "Are you going to be okay?"

Now that the fight was over, he was able to get a closer look at the man who had just saved his hide. He wore a black mage top with flames accenting the shoulders, black plate legs, and his staff looked to be made of twisted and blackened dramen wood. Solo brushed the man's long blonde hair from his face to see four long, very deep, scratches. They'd already begun to fester and become infested due to the poison residing within the werewolves' claws; by this time tomorrow he would be dead or turned.

The man whispered "Get me…to the ocarina. It's my only chance." He only just managed to finish the sentence before fainting from the immense pain he was in. Conflicted, Solo debated whether he should do as the man requested or carry him back to Emma for healing.

Against his better judgment, and partially because he needed the ocarina to complete his mission, Solo hefted the sturdy man onto his back, not easily, and made the long walk to the temple. Struggling under the constant weight of the warrior-mage, Solo wished that he wasn't covered in manure.

Solo arrived at the temple just as the sun was setting, giving the temple a dark and ominous appearance. Its once white-washed stone walls were now grey with age, covered in moss and chipped away by the winds of time. A rusted gate, now lying uselessly on the ground, was all that was left of what seemed to be the outer entrance to this once majestic place.

A pool of water to the left attracted Solo's attention, but nearing closer revealed its waters had long been polluted by dirt and grime. His heart sank at the thought of continuing on with poop covering him; he would just have to hold his nose and stagger on.

As soon as he crossed the temple's threshold, he could hold the man no longer, and lowered him to the floor quickly and easily. Solo absorbed the ruins with fascination. The interior walls were covered with some kind of ancient runes, each one in great detail.

The runes, Solo thought. Each one seems to have a connection with the elements. He took some time to examine the few that were nearby, finding his conclusion to be correct: the runes were of fire, water, earth, air, and time.

"Fascinating!" Solo breathed, with excitement. But then a glint caught his eye. Turning toward the center of the temple he noticed a small altar, the ocarina resting atop it.

Glancing back at the man who'd saved him, Solo jogged up to the ocarina and grabbed it, only taking a few seconds to marvel at its craftsmanship. Relic in hand, Solo rushed over to the man and shook him out of his slumber.

"Did you find…the ocarina?" the man asked, barely above a whisper.

"Not sure what good it'll do," Solo replied. "But, yes, I got it."

He handed the ocarina over. Hand shaking, the man took the instrument and blew into it. A sweet, melodious tune echoed through the temple, and it seemed to calm Solo down; he'd never felt more at peace with himself.

Still playing the tune, the warrior-mage's wounds suddenly began to heal themselves. The scratches on his face sealed shut, leaving no scars behind as if there had never been any there, then his shaking hand calmed itself. Revived and strong again, he stood to his feet stretching himself in relief.

"What was that?" Solo asked, with surprise.

"The magical healing properties of the wind ocarina," the man replied. "Its powers were said to have been imbued by the elves to the East, and that these ancient ones had done so to combat a great and terrible evil. That sword trapped in the altar, it too was crafted by these elves. With both of these relics at their disposal, they sent one of their own to strike down the blight upon their lands.

"But the one they sent was only a boy and he did not have much battle experience, and so he only managed to slow down the evil's progress. So a few years later, the evil rose up and took control of the elves' kingdom. It was this same young boy, now a grown man, who stood up to take on the mantle of hero, casting the evil into a deep well, where upon he sealed the malignant evil with a magic tune from his ocarina.

"However, like all things," the man continued. "The kingdom fell when it was invaded by outsiders from a foreign power. The temple was sacked, and only the ocarina and the blade, thought to be worthless, were left behind."

Solo's eyes had widened during the man's tale. With the finish of the story, he quickly remembered he did not know this stranger's name. "In all the excitement, I didn't manage to catch your name, stranger." He held his hand out. "They call me Solo Pehkayer."

The man returned the favor. "Where I come from, I am referred to as simply Auron. Now I must be on my way, for I have tarried too long in these woods for my liking. Here is the ocarina, you may keep it."

Auron gave a small smile as he turned and walked out of the temple, leaving a stunned Solo clutching the ocarina to reflect on what he'd seen and heard. He looked down at the ocarina, something so innocent and powerless looking, yet had such strength and history behind its melodies.

He met up with Emma and the others an hour later in the temple. Everyone was worried about him, except Kook. He explained in great detail the man in black, the werewolves, and the story behind the wind ocarina and the rusted blade.

Having completed their mission, Solo's team head back to town where the elven monks had said they would be. Quite happy that the ocarina had been returned to them at long last, they were very generous with the reward.

Weighted down by bags and bags of gold coins for the White Knights, Solo walked to headquarters with a slight spring in his step and a catchy tune on his lips. Maybe it was because he had survived death or because he had heard such an amazing story, but Solo felt completely on top of the world. It was almost like nothing could possibly bring him down.

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><p><strong>Review Q: Did you enjoy the introduction of Auron? And did you catch the reference I placed in this chapter?<strong>

**InterCom: Ask me a question and I'll answer it.**

**Comments: Auron was requested by Warrior of the Unknown Path.**

**Make sure to check out my holiday specials over at my NEW story, **_**The Sphere of Varrock: Specials**_**! Both the Halloween and Thanksgiving Special are up.**

**Until next we meet, adieu!**


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